


but our wishes are like tinder

by light_rises



Series: burning days (as we make our way) [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Autistic Chara (Undertale), Backstory, Catharsis, Codependency, Conversations, Gen, Hugs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Other, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash, Self-Hatred, Self-Worth Issues, Voluntary Property Destruction, dramatically ironic character growth Whoops, internalized ableism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-27 22:46:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16228853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/light_rises/pseuds/light_rises
Summary: Three weeks pass before Chara's on the upswing of recovery, well enough that your mom feels more comfortable with taking a work-related daytrip she's been putting off. She leaves in the morning; the hours roll by quietly and now it's early afternoon, and you've all but forgotten whatever thing you'd prodded Chara about all that time ago when they slam a sheet of drawing paper on top of the picture book you're reading."There," they say, before you have a chance to get irritated. "This is the last place I lived before coming here."--Chara and Asriel have a long conversation that was long in coming, though not in the way either of them expect.





	but our wishes are like tinder

**Author's Note:**

> the title comes from anne brontë's _agnes grey_ ; you can read a longer excerpt [here](https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/1158262-but-our-wishes-are-like-tinder-the-flint-and-steel)
> 
> (extra note: reading "persistence is only one-tenth of the law" before this isn't totally necessary, but it is recommended!)

When you first bring up the topic with Chara, right at the tailend of some weeding and a bout of light rough-housing in Dad's garden, they don't answer. Not with words. They give you a look—just shy of blank, the spark of emotion filtering through unreadable—before turning heel, not bothering to strip off their gardening gloves as they exit to the corridor. They go about the rest of their day as though you'd said nothing, at least about  _that_. They pretend into the next day, too.

Which...okay, all things considered, that's fair. It's _fair_. You kind of hate it, but you can't argue with past experience. Once upon a time (like, a month back), you pressed Chara too hard. They got upset, you cussed each other out, and before you knew it a whole Near Friendship Apocalypse had broken out. It was  _bad_. Even you know it would be monumentally stupid to risk that again over one measly point of curiosity.

So, you follow Chara's lead and pretend you'd said nothing too. By day three they're bedridden and hacking up what sounds like both lungs, thanks to yet another round of what your mom calls "bronchitis". Naturally, your priorities shift as you try to help out in the usual ways (taking on whichever sickbed duties that your parents will let you and Chara will tolerate, plus postponing as much schoolwork and forays into the capitol as you can get away with to ensure you're around if Chara wants your company). It's pretty routine by now, if distracting.

Three weeks pass before Chara's on the upswing of recovery, well enough that your mom feels more comfortable with taking a work-related daytrip she's been putting off. She leaves in the morning; the hours roll by quietly and now it's early afternoon, and you've all but forgotten whatever thing you'd prodded Chara about all that time ago when they slam a sheet of drawing paper on top of the picture book you're reading.

"There," they say, before you have a chance to get irritated. "This is the last place I lived before coming here."

"What," you say. Very smartly, a full second before your brain has a chance to catch up with the backend of Chara's words.

"You asked for this." Now  _Chara_ looks irritated. Or...something akin to it. Either way, they huff and lower themself to the floor of your shared bedroom, sprawling alongside you. "I'm willing to go over this once. Ready?"

"I...guess?" You purse half of your mouth. "You're sort of springing this on me out of nowhere, y'know."

"If I'm not mistaken, the same could be said of your original question." They shoot you a look that's as droll as it is flinty. "Fair is fair."

"Ughh, okay! I get it." Frowning, you nudge the picture book away and let Chara's sheet lie against the floor rug. You glance at them for permission before spreading it flat with your paws, trying to mind the swoops and scratches of crayon. "Sooo...what am I looking at, exactly?"

"A bird's eye view of the community. Roughly." They jab a finger at the paper, dragging it around the perimeter of their drawing. It occurs to you that Chara's work here is more...abstract, than their usual? There's less detail and the lines aren't as careful as Chara is wont towards, for sure. "Most of these rectangles are houses," they explain. "That circle is the wall enclosing them. It's...let's say it wasn't an open neighborhood, exactly."

"Ha. The opposite of our problem down here." You trail that with giggles, a cap-off to make the joke obvious. It doesn't seem to land, though; Chara "mm"s and chews the edge of one thumbnail, shoulders pinched. You shift your belly against the rug and cough. "Um. Sorry?"

"Whatever." Chara pulls their hand away from their mouth, refocusing. "So, the gate. There's someone who mans it most of the time, late into the night too. You either have to talk to them or punch in a code to be admitted entry."

"A code?"

"Numbers on a keypad."

"Ohh! Like a computer keyboard."

"Mhmm. Only one sequence will get you in."

Feet set to kicking, you pore over the part of Chara's picture—a map, really, when you think about it—where they sketched in the gate. There's a small box bisecting it, which you think must be the guard station. "Just one code, huh. That makes it, like...kiiiiind of a puzzle? That part of your village sounds pretty normal, at least."

"It's not a vil—" They cut themself off. Something hard flickers in their eyes, which is matched by the set of their mouth, then the grit to their teeth as their lips part. "It's not... _meant_ to be a puzzle," they continue, with an evenness that's plainly faked, "but it could be treated as such if that's how you approach it. I guess." Chara's face relaxes a little, but their finger curls inward, flush with a loose fist that they rest near the guard station. "Honestly, it'd be easier to just break the damn thing."

"...I see." You're pretty sure you don't, but that's not the point. You can sense it; tension zipping through the air like frenzied bullet patterns, the way it does every time Chara starts to clam up in the middle of a conversation. Or—or less like a clam than a snail eyeing its shell as an escape route? Whatever. Similes, jeez.

The REAL point is that Chara could end this educational sess as abruptly as they started it, all thanks to you saying one last Wrong Thing. And that's the last thing you want!! Chara keeps near everything about their old life as close to their vest as possible, which—they should  _know_ that just makes you  _more_ curious, right? Near Friendship Apocalypse aside, the only reason you don't ask every chance you get is that Chara treats this information less like a jealously-guarded secret than...than. You don't know, really. Or, you do, but not much beyond the faintest of outlines as laid out by your parents, sketching out the shape of a life that had not been very kind to Chara.

 _That_ part you almost don't want to know more about, ever, but...still. There's no way it could've been all bad, right? Chara wouldn't bother to tell you anything about the surface if that was the case.

Okay, so. What was it your mom said  ~~more than~~  once, about checking on Chara before letting all sorts of questions loose on them? Hmmm. Hm.

Chara's starting to tear off paper around their map (tiny shards of it, holes biting into the sheet's edges like scallops), when you say, "Is it okay if I, uh. Ask you some more questions about this?"

They stop in the middle of tearing more paper and look at you sidelong, without moving their head. "I'm not sure there's much left to discuss," they say at length.

Oh crud,  _seriously?_ You're on thinner ice than you thought. "Then...well, YOU tell me what you wanna talk about!" Your paws grip then drum your thighs impatiently as you lean forward. "Whatever's interesting, I don't know! Something cool about your old house or—"

" _'Interesting.'_ " Chara doesn't raise their voice, not even a little, but the word tumbles from their mouth like ice coming out the wrong shape. It stops you dead. "A  _neat_ factoid or...or some such, you say."

"That's. Well—"

They finish tearing off the scrap and discard it. They've stopped looking at you.

After Chara sits immobile and silent for a long moment, you sigh. "Chara, I...if I said something wrong I'm sorry, but GOSH you don't have to get all  _weird_ about it."

"Oh!" Now they  _do_ turn your way, but their mouth is stretched with a grin that's as wide and symmetrical as it is entirely, entirely awful. Oh  _crud_. "My apologies!" they say, with fake cheer. "I was under the impression that treating my backstory like a sordid object of titillation was the  _raison d'être_ of this exercise."

"Th...I don't understand half of what you just said!" You're frustrated, by like, the boatload, but you're wincing too. You know where Chara pretending to be upbeat and talking even more like your mom than they already do will lead if you don't stop it somehow. "Look, you're...you really need to calm down, it's not—"

"Nope!! I'm rescinding that suggestion with a cordial  _'fuck you'_ , because this is what you and yours signed up for, Asriel Dreemurr." Chara gestures at themself, pats their thin chest with a shaky flourish. "The unknowable freakshow, the mercurial cryptid, the abom—" they bite their lip, smile gone tremorous "—the. Crazy  _idiot_ dumb-dumb who's amusing at best and a panicky asshole burden at worst. That's..." They exhale through their teeth. "That's me. Chara."

You were too gobsmacked to breathe as they carried on, much less speak. Before you can get a word in edgewise this time (and you really need to, Chara talking like this is making you a little ill), they slam both hands on the floor rug. The right one has landed on their map, depressing it with crinkles.

"Besides," Chara goes on, smile volleying, leaning in close, "we might as well get it out in the open that you hardly consider me more than a plaything, and have since the moment you dragged me out of the backend of Ye Olde Capitol like a filthy rag doll." Their smile drops. "Sorry this toy was bound to disappoint,  _your highness_."

And that does it: you grow some shade of mad, _so mad_ , and it kicks your voice into gear.

"You're"—you get right in their face, too—"Chara  _that's not fair_ , I don't think that way, you're!! You're not a 'toy' or, or a burden or whatever, you're  _my friend_ , and even before I thought of you like that I—"

"Could do with communicating that better, then," they say lowly.

"Then  _I'm sorry!!_ I don't even know what I did wrong, but I'm  _sorry!!!_ JEEZ!!" You lean back, huffing, pretty sure that you're frowning something fierce. "I care about you, and you're my friend, and that's that!  _Gosh_. There's literally no reason you have to make this so dif—"

"Don't you have other friends to be with?"

You go absolutely still. Chara's glare ends up lapsing into a mere Look, like you weren't the only one who felt the change in the air.

"What?" you say, eventually.

Chara is leaning away too, without moving their hands from where they're still planted on the floor. "You heard me."

That's all either of you say for a while.

It's funny: you were thinking about turning on the waterworks, since doing that has made Chara back down in an argument before. But here you are, eyes wet, perfectly normal tears beating you to the punch.

"Y..." You sniffle, swallowing the gunk building up at the back of your throat already. "Y-you could've found a nicer way to say you want me to go away, you big jerk."

Chara blinks, and the shift in their face and posture and  _everything_ is so quick you're still rooted to the spot when they go, "That's not—Ree, no, I didn't mean it like that, I was...fuck! It was a sincere question, I  _swear_."

You give your eyes a quick, sloppy wipe, then Chara themself a hard look. They don't seem like they're ready to bite your head off anymore, or even close to it. Weird as it is it's not totally unlike them to flip from angry to contrite at the drop of a hat, so... "O-okay, but. Why, though," you end up saying, still a little wary.

"I'm not asking out of morbid curiosity, if that's what you're worried about." Chara presses their lips flat, eyes flickering over your face before they reach somewhere to their right and a little behind them. They hand you an orangey wad with a soft "here", then, "You'll get mad at yourself if you don't get that snot out before it dries."

The wad has layers; it takes peeling one aside for you to realize that Chara has given you some knit fabric, a piece you vaguely remember them working on the other day. "But this is—" you start.

"I've dropped too many stitches and I was just messing around with that, anyway." They flick a dismissive wave with one hand while pushing your cupped paws back towards yourself with the other, gentle. "It's fine, Ree."

You're still kind of dubious, but Chara doesn't sideswipe you with a "PSYCHE" or anything once you start dabbing at your muzzle, so it really must be okay. With an eye fixed on the bedroom door, they scoot closer as you blow and clean your nose and wipe the fur around it. You're both quiet for a good minute or two.

"...I suppose your dad's still tending the garden," Chara ends up saying. They've taken to cradling the wrinkled-up drawing in their lap as they run a thumb along one edge of it, the only part they haven't notched with their fingers. "We, uh. Weren't exactly quiet."

"Eheh, yeah." You eye the paper rasping against Chara's thumb, consider saying something before dropping the thought just as quick. "Even if he wasn't, he'd probably think we were just horsing around? You know how he is."

Chara makes a noise—something low, straddling a hum and a sigh. You watch with some relief as they drop the map into the space behind their crossed ankles.

"The thing is..." They inhale, scowling, throat at work as they crane back their neck and run fingers through their hair with blunt ferocity. "You get out more than I do, that much is obvious," they say, hands dropping, "but it's...I'm not too stupid to notice you've spent days and weeks cooped up at home along with me,  _because_ of me. Weeks  _plural_ , Asriel. And you only talk about other kids in the abstract." When Chara looks back at you, their scowl has softened into something you can't even begin to make heads or tails of. "Who am I keeping you from?"

...Ha. You were so,  _so_ sure Chara had it figured out, but that last question smacks you upside the head and startles a giggle out of you. Oh wow. Wow!! They really thought that you had—

"Hee hee, that's—golly!" You wipe your eyes again, with what you hope is the clean side of Chara's knit kerchief thing. "You don't...that's really not something you have to worry about, ever, believe me."

"...What do you mean by that." This time they really  _do_ look like they've figured it out, but of course they're expecting you to admit it. Jeez. This was bound to come up anyway, but the thought of Getting Into It, For Real is almost worse than just plain old fighting. Maybe you and Chara could get back to doing that instead, actually???

...Guess not. Welp. "Well, uh...I. Don't really have more friends?" You give smiling a shot. It feels off-kilter in a way that probably shows. "Yooou're pretty much it!! Haha."

Chara's reaction starts off mute: a little wrinkle between their brows, rapid blinking, the wrinkle folding into a crease as their brows tip down sharply and Chara looks away. They make like they're going to talk a couple times before turning towards you again, then, "Because you're the prince?"

"Wha...no??" What would give them THAT idea??? There's no way human monarchies work the same way as down here, sure, but— _man_ , whatever! That's not important right now. "Like, I've  _had_ friends," you continue. "There was, uhh, Dyll and Sibby, and...oh, you didn't meet them but you've probably seen Foss around, they only live a few blocks from here! We hung out tons." Your paws come together as you laugh, just the once, fingerpads worrying knuckles and palms. "I-it's just that they all, um. Stopped being my friends, before you—"

"Were they mean to you?" Chara says. There's this edge to their voice, in the minute narrowing of their eyes that makes your stomach do a flip. Which...that. Feels kind of good, actually?

But: "No no, it's nothing like that! We weren't even fighting or anything, like, not right then anyway. They..." You gesture with both paws, a little aimless. "It was more like...everyone came over less and less until they just, didn't, anymore. When I asked to visit  _them_ they kept saying they were busy, or they had something to do or places to be...stuff like that." You shrug with one shoulder, softly. "Kinda hard not to get the message after a while. Ha."

There's a beat where Chara just sort of...stares, until their mouth dips with a frown. "That just sounds like a different kind of mean, if you ask me."

"I wouldn't call it that," you say, though not with the confidence you were shooting for.

"Did they at least—" They pull a face, rub at their eyes and sigh. "Did they ever give you a reason why?"

"Uh-uh. I always figured they were too nice to say anything, or..."

"'Or?"

"...They didn't want to put up with me again just to do that." Your smile falters. Ugh. Your eyes are getting all stingy again. "I-I know I can get on  _your_ nerves, so. That's probably it. It makes sense, right?"

Chara goes very, very quiet, for a moment that stretches uncomfortably. "Ree..."

"It's okay!!" you say, wetly, because now Chara looks—they look  _sad_ , and there's a tenderness folded into it that you don't think you've seen from them before. It's really kind of freaking you out. "It's just, i-it's stupid old baby stuff that's not your problem, you don't..." You stop, and breathe deep. You do not,  _do not_ want this to be about you anymore. No way. "Y-you know. You were saying all those awful things about yourself, but the stupid isn't you, it's  _that_ , because not even half of it's true. You're really smart and funny without even thinking about it! You ace all of Mom's lessons like it's nothing, like it's weird that I  _can't_ , AND I can't keep things alive and growing like you to save my life, so!! So. You're wrong, I don't want more friends anyway because you're  _enough_ , Chara, and if anyone's the 'idiot dumb-dumb' who falls for everything and drives people away and can't get things right no matter how much I try—"

" ** _Stop._** " Chara's hands have flown to your muzzle, pressed to your nose and the lines of your lips. You hold very, very still. They draw a ragged breath after a moment, and as their hands slide to cradle either side of your face you spy the threat of hot tears in their eyes. "Just. Stop," they repeat, quieter.

You would nod or, or say  _something_ , but  _Chara's touching you_ —REALLY touching you, not holding back like you'll fall to pieces if they don't treat every last inch of you like a moth's wing—and it's...kind of distracting! But maybe Chara realizes what they're doing, because their hands only linger another second or two before they're snatched away, lightning quick.

"Sorry," they squeak, faintly, "sorry." Of all the things it does when they're distressed, Chara's voice hardly ever  _squeaks_. More familiar is the way they're curling in on themself, arms folding around their middle, lips tight and eyes wide as they look at nothing in particular. Their body sways and stiffens, with what's probably an effort to stop themself from rocking since now they're biting their lip, dangerously hard. Oh jeez.

"No no, it's...it's okay!" you say, a little desperate. You start to reach towards Chara too and realize that's not a good move, all too late, because they flinch away. Your paws withdraw, then drop. It's...ugh. It's so weird and, and  _frustrating_. They were raking you over the coals not five minutes ago, and now this. How do they expect you to keep up?? At least when Chara snaps at you it doesn't make you feel like you've just kicked a Whimsun. Why  _can't_ they go back to yelling or pushing back or being imperious instead of cowering, scared and small, like they'll do around your mom or your dad or most adults and kids or—

Oh.

A thought clicks into place. Your exasperation drains like snowmelt as you watch Chara duck their head, face curtained by their bangs and a neat, dangling shock of fringe. Oh.

You're...you're the only person Chara bothers standing up to, aren't you? Actually, if you're being as honest as you can manage, they don't even do  _that_ super often. Chara being mad (or just upset, really) and them making it known instead of just gritting their teeth through whatever you want to do are two different things. That aside...some part of you wants to preen anyway—they're  _comfortable_ enough around you to be mouthy, to tamp down on their fear sometimes—but.

They don't like being touched without permission. Never have. They've just touched  _you_ without asking, something more invasive than just the taps or pats they usually give, so...they're scared that they've crossed a line, probably. It seems kind of silly even after you trace the logic, but you quash the urge to roll your eyes and try to have Chara laugh it off. No. It doesn't  _matter_ if they're overreacting or whatever. You need to be nice.

You draw a soft breath. "It's okay," you repeat, gentler. It's a near thing, but you resist scooting forward or babbling whatever pops into your head just to fill the silence. Impulse isn't going to do much good here. For once, you let the words roll around in your head experimentally before going on. "I...I know it's not the same for you," you say, "but I don't mind if you touch or hug me or, or anything like that? It's always okay! I'll never get mad about that, cross my heart."

A moment passes. Slowly, with a deliberation that makes you think of someone ten times older, Chara angles their head to lock cinched eyes on you. They don't look convinced.

You hitch on a lopsided smile. "Uh. Hope to die?" you add.

They snort, the noise weak but patently ugly. "Don't do that," they mutter. "It's exhausting."

Your brain trips over the question of  _Haha was that a joke??_ before brushing it off, like dandruff. "Guess that leaves me with 'stick a needle in my eye'," you try, pantomiming it for their benefit.

This time Chara laughs—it's hushed to brittle, but a lot less awful than their snort. "Gross," they say.

"Uhhh, no way?? You were JUST telling me about that movie—like, last week I think—the one with the guy that had to saw off his hand because he was stuck in a really dumb puzzle! How's that any better?"

"Oh, right." They pause, brows raised and mouth crimping with thought. "I suppose that one left him a little  _stumped_."

"I mean obviously, but what—" You stop, mouth parted, then shut it with a click. Chara meets the stare you level at them gamely. Your scowl, too. There's a wry, feeble smile worming its way onto their lips when you finally groan and lob the orange knitting at them, not bothering to wad it up beforehand. It flops onto their left knee, harmless. This makes  _you_ madder and  _them_ laugh.

"I'm not sorry," they say, giggling in hiccups, like their mirth is fragile and playing hopscotch. "You walked right into that and—you can't pay me to apologize, ever."

"I was trying to make you feel better!" you say, not caring a whit that you sound all sorts of petulant. They _betrayed you_ with a _stupid macabre pun_. Ugh!

They swallow a couple giggles before saying, a smidgen more charitable, "I'd hardly say that you failed."

"I... _guess_." You cross your arms, aiming a mutinous pout at the rug. "You made me look dumb, though."

"To wh—" two coughs, then a breath dragged in sharp "—to whom, exactly? We and these walls are the only witnesses to your folly."

"Oh shut  _up_ _!!_ "

A final laugh escapes them, reedy but thick. Four coughs trail it, plus another, then Chara gulps air as they splay a hand across their chest, rubbing circles, face caught up in a vague pinch. Oh, jeez.

You make a face of your own, but Chara's breathing lapses to soft and even before concern can spur you beyond that, and...well. Chara hates you babying them over this stuff anyway, especially when they're not  _sick_ sick anymore, so. Being maybe a little more theatrical than necessary, you "hmph" and turn your nose up, eyes sliding shut. Yeah! That's it. Right where you both left off.

Nothing else happens for a moment, except for what sounds like Chara shifting their position a bit. "For whatever it's worth," they end up saying, voice crusted over with a rasp, "I could try it for you, now."

"Try what?" you say. You crack open an eyelid, then startle into dropping all pretense of indignation because Chara's suddenly a  _lot_ closer, facing you head-on. They're sitting on their heels, mouth pressed thin with nerves and one hand busy picking at threads from the opposite sleeve of their sweater while you eye them, up and down. Their gaze averts.

Then, sucking in air, Chara lifts their arms to just below the level of their shoulders, bowed awkwardly, held out towards you. The implication of what's about to happen takes a second to sink in, but only that.

"I don't have to ask for your permission," they say, carefully, eyes trained on your nose. "Did I hear you right?"

You blink a few times. Some part of you wants to point out that, well, saying it like that  _is_ basically asking for permission, but you realize that would be dumb fast enough to just nod at them.

Chara nods back, and then they inch forward to close the distance between you. It's like slo-mo, except instead of cool and dramatic it's you sitting there like a dope while Chara stutters into leaning their weight against you, head tucking warily into the crook of your neck. Their arms move next, shy and twitchy before they commit to latching on. You still haven't done anything other than drop your arms to your sides, and you only realize  _that_ because Chara's chest is pressed up against the right side of yours and, and;  _jeez_. You can feel their ribs move and their heart pattering away. They're  _not budging_. It's nothing like the only other time Chara hugged you, which they had backed out of as soon as they'd started it.  _Um?????????_

A part of your brain shoves through all the shortcircuiting long enough to let you say, "W-what. Is this for, exactly?"

"To make you feel better," they bite out, like it's obvious. You wince as much from their tone as from realizing they're probably right to think that. Of course—stupid, stupid Asriel. Chara sighs though, a long tapering sound, then half-muffles against the back of your neck, "And because I'm an idiot."

You frown, brows dropping. "Chara, you're not—"

They cut you short with a  _tch_. "Ree, spare me. I spat bile all over you and I've  _had_ my turn at being shored up." Their grip around your middle tightens with a squeeze, loosens again. "Just...this is the least I can do. Let me."

You "hmph" again, soft and grumbly. It's not for show this time—you're pretty sure you made it perfectly clear that you hate it when Chara trashtalks themself, SHEESH they're so stubborn—but whatever intent you have to argue with them gets sidetracked by an impulse. It sinks into you like a hook, bright, insistent. Your mouth tamps down on it for the two seconds it takes you to make sure Chara isn't about to pull out of the hug, then: "Uh. Can I hug you back?"

They stiffen. Just a little, just enough for you to worry that you've made a huge mistake and now Chara's never going to let you touch them again  _ever_ and already you feel—sad, and mad at yourself, and, and  _cheated_. Then they inhale, through what sounds like their mouth. "Yeah," they say; in an odd way, like the syllable got a crack down the middle and broke in two. "Go ahead."

You whoosh out a breath to match the one Chara took in. Okay.

Because you can't tell how frail their agreement is—and Chara's heart is still racing, from what you can only suppose is stress—you try to think of your dad as you slowly,  _slowly_ lift your arms. Personally you like Mom's hugs the best, but she's only gotten as far as holding hands with Chara while your dad has scooped them willingly into his arms at least twice that you know of (then got obnoxiously jealous about, but that's neither here nor there right now), so! The evidence speaks for itself. It makes sense in a way: Dad is even bigger than Mom and he's a lot more likely to be hugging all sorts of people, which makes him used to taking his size into account around much smaller monsters, or anyone who's just skittish. Anyone like Chara, for sure.

So, uh. Now he would...your mouth scrunches a little as you reach behind Chara and give them a quiet warning, before settling your paws on their back. You don't apply too light a touch (the "why" you don't get, but your dad insists that it matters), but not so firm or tight around their middle either. Chara needs to feel— _not_ trapped, like they can back out of this at any time. And you guess it works, because after a moment of their shoulders pinching under your fingers Chara sighs, and they kind of...they sag against you, tension ebbing. Not like they're about to pass out, which becomes clearer when they readjust their arms along your back. Their pulse starts to slow a little, too.

"...You doing okay?" you ask them anyway. This seems almost too easy, nice as it is. Your conscience is using that faint squirming doubt to peck at your sense of accomplishment.

Chara's jaw goes taut against your neck before they laugh, breathy. "What,  _now_ you're worried about coercing me into this?"

 _Ummmmmmmmmm._ "I—"

They just give you a light pat on the back. "You didn't. Think nothing of it," they say, nonchalant. You get a few seconds to puzzle over their tone before Chara pulls back; they keep a hand on your right flank and don't seem to mind your paws sliding up to grip their shoulders, but. The moment's basically over. You can't tell if your disappointment shows or not. Chara is worrying their lower lip with their teeth and you're giving their shoulders a soft, sort of pleading squeeze when they say, "Asriel, has this really been worth it?"

Your mouth twists a little. "What do you mean?"

"The friends you don't have." Chara's looking down, at their free hand sitting in a fist on their left thigh. "Just...think this through for a minute, okay? Has babysitting me all this time  _really_ been worth it to you?"

You fail to hesitate because, like, you  _know_ the answer to this. "Of course it has! I mean—first off I wouldn't call it 'babysitting', it's not like I would be here asking to play or just sit with you and all that stuff if I didn't want to. I've  _always_ wanted that, and...look, could you stop bringing my friends into this? That had nothing to do with you, they were already gone—"

"I haven't been helping on that front," Chara mumbles.

"And I don't care!" you say. "I already told you, I'm  _fine_ without any of them, because you're—"

"I'm 'enough,'" they finish for you, acrid. "I didn't miss that." Chara breathes slow and careful as they lift their head a little. Their right hand retracts from your side to run over their bangs and forehead, and you don't notice that Chara's grimacing until the hand stills to cradle a full half of their face. They laugh again, the noise thready. "Ree," they start, and their voice breaks with the rest: " _get real_."

Chara sounds so bittertoo, so convicted about it, that any and all words run away from you for a moment. "I...Chara, I'm NOT lying," you end up saying.

"I'm not accusing you of that." The hand on Chara's face shifts to tuck some hair behind their ear before it drops, curtly. Their grimace is toned down a notch now, but their voice doesn't sound anymore kept-together as they go on. "Listen, this...it's not gotten through to you for whatever reason, so. Let me explain?" Another deep, wobbly breath. "Asriel. I'm a mean, needy piece of shit. But you—you can drive me up a wall sometimes, but the fact of the matter is  _you're nice_. And not dumb, either. You should be out there acting the prince and winning everyone back and, just... _living_. Getting back to the way things stood before a part-time invalid crashlanded into your life."

"Chara, I—"

"Let me finish." They blink a few times and sniff, hard; their eyes have gone very wet. "I don't...belong here," they say. "Whether you mean to or not, you throw that back in my face every time you ask about the surface, about  _me_. So. Maybe it serves me right for being a cryptic asshole, but I"—they sniff again and wipe at their nose—"I, find it  _really_ hard to fathom a reason for you to stick around, apart from whatever entertainment value I have as a secret-hoarding freak."

Swallowing, you lean back a little; it makes your paws slip down to Chara's forearms. They're...basically repeating what they said earlier but explaining it more, and. You still feel kind of lost—to be honest, you don't want to dwell a whole lot on why your questions would make Chara think you see them as some kind of  _freak_ , of all things—but...ugh. Idiot. You did  _that thing_ again, right at the start of all this, where you try to blow Chara off because you think they're making a huge deal out of nothing. So now they're crying and they  _hate_ crying, and you extra hate  _seeing_ them cry.

Maybe it's because they've got you crying too, but you have literally no room to be frustrated with them anymore. It's been squeezed out. You lift a paw to scrub at your eyes and say, "Golly. You really don't get why I keep asking about this stuff, do you?"

 _This_ snaps Chara's eyes to yours, with a jerk of their head. You can't tell if they look incredulous or just surprised.

"It's not your fault! At least...that's what I'm starting to get now? I think?" When your paw lowers, you let it settle companionably next to Chara's left knee, where their fisted hand still sits. "I mean. You're not wrong," you say, "about me being curious about the surface and other humans and all that. A-and about you too, yeah. More than anything. But...jeez, you make it out like you're a game I'm gonna get bored of or I'm making fun of you and! Chara, it's nothing like that, I just—want to know everything."

You pause for breath, and to look down. You turn your lowered paw over so that it's facing palm-up, fingers uncurled like a bloom. "I...I want to know how you got so good at drawing, and words," you continue, "and, like. All the other things you learned before coming here. I want to know why you like those golden flowers so much, and...y'know, seriously, why  _do_ you keep trying to talk my dad out of planting mint in the garden?? That's another one."

"It would be wretched," they say quietly, a little stiff. The tips of Chara's ears have gone very red and their fist has opened and moved down, all but laying flat in your paw. They're brushing three callused fingertips against the pad of your palm, over and over. "If you need to know."

You snort a giggle. "See, that's what I mean. There's  _gotta_ be a story behind that."

"It's nothing you haven't overheard at this point," Chara says. But now their tone is wry and shot through with warmth—a sure enough sign that you're on better footing with them, even before their hand lowers to sit in the nest of your paw. "But fine: mint is a literal weed and it's disgusting. We don't need that in our lives. Cue-ee-dee."

"...Yeah you're right, I've heard all that already."

"Then you're welcome for the recap, dork."

You stick out your tongue and Chara barks a laugh. They cough again too, but no more than twice before their mouth settles into a crooked smile. Even with the sloppy tear tracks they haven't bothered to wipe off and their splotchy cheeks and puffy eyes, they look...this is their real smile and it's really, kind of  _cute_ , you think.

You clear your throat. "O-okay, but," you say, then (very shyly, all of a sudden) venture to smooth a thumbpad over the back of Chara's hand, over their freckled skin, "like. Does that make sense? It's just that...I really,  _really_ like the you I already know, and there's so much more I don't have a clue about. Only you know the answers to any of that. I can't stand it."

Even before you can finish, Chara's smile fades to a shadow of itself. "It's better that way," they say in an undertone, and your face falls too.

"Well..." You shake your head, rallying with a scowl and a firm squeeze of their hand. "I don't believe that! There's nothing you could tell me that'd make me regret asking, alright? And that's that."

Chara scoffs and shakes their head too, but they don't say anything else right away. They end up using the heel of their right hand to rub the wetness off their face and the sheen of snot under their nose, with a brute force that makes you worry a bit. Their other hand doesn't try to slither out of your grip through all this, even as they stop wiping a few seconds later and look over their shoulder. You trace Chara's gaze to their discarded drawing, creased and lying facedown a couple feet behind them. They frown at it.

"...I suppose we did lose the thread of what got us talking in the first place," they say. With a shift of their legs so they're back to sitting on their butt, Chara twists to reach for the drawing. They're anything but gentle with it as they turn your way again and their other hand is still firmly planted in yours, but their eyes don't shift from the half-crumpled sheet all the same. Chara inhales once, says, "There's one other thing I could tell you about this," then they meet your eyes. There's a fine, wavery crease between their brows. "Actually, I'm not sure I have a choice, given the implications."

"I'm listening," you say. Mom is on your mind as the words come out and that's how you're hoping it sounds to Chara; like all those times she gets soft and coaxing, then patiently (expectantly) waits for the person she's speaking with to spill their guts.

Chara draws another careful breath.

"This place," they say, tilting the sheet so you can see the map again, "it used to be called 'Hillside Haven.'" Chara snorts, derisive. "We won't touch on the misnomer. Anyway. The home owners association opted to...I guess you could say they rebranded the community, to something they deemed more upscale. This was going down right when I was—when I first got there." They pause, lips pressed to a wan line as their stare hardens. "Now they call it 'The Haven at Mt. Ebott.'"

You just...stare right back, for a long, long moment.

"So..." You gulp. "Golly. You don't mean  _on_ the mountain, right?"

"I don't, but one of the foothills at the base of it is fair fucking game, apparently. Haven is the only human settlement that's cozied up this brazenly with Ebott in living memory." As their gaze drifts to some loose bit of fiber poking out of the rug, Chara smiles. And then laughs. It sticks out so badly against the moment it makes your stomach curl up tight. "It's...I think it's funny?" they say. "I would've climbed either way, but. Much farther and I wouldn't have made it to the point of dropping down a hole. At least probably. I mean; it rained on my way up. For hours. Add two miles and I could have succumbed to the elements, or just...gotten impatient."

Their affect goes flat at the end. You think of the dagger Chara had with them at the start of...well, everything. It was on them when you first stumbled across their half-conscious body, even though you had no idea until your mom was assessing their injuries and found it tucked away. They got to keep it for a little while, but—anyway. Now Chara's only allowed to have it while they're in the garden, under your dad's supervision.

This is the last thing you want to think about. It's probably the last thing  _they_ should be thinking about. "So, like," you say, scrambling for words, for something  _else_ , "with all those humans so...with them close by now. A-are you saying we could see more of them coming here?"  _Like you?_

"...Yeah, that. That's part of it."

Chara's voice is so small, though. They've started eyeing you from head to toe, like they're sizing you up, with such an intensity that you get the creeping sense you've said the wrong thing after all. You haven't felt this examined since they were freshly fallen and you were new to them. Your paw squeezes their hand, maybe too tight. "Chara—"

"Asriel." They sound almost—strangled. But less small. They throw another glance at the bedroom door before extracting their hand from yours and scooting in close. Their drawing gets discarded too. "You can't..." they start, then trail off. Their hands ball up on the rug in front of your knees before raising, unfurled, to settle on your shoulders. Chara touches their forehead to yours. "This next part," they say, hushed, "you can't tell your parents. No monsters, either. They won't...it's not something they'll understand, coming from me. Okay?"

"O-okay," is all you say. It's a little hard to think with their nose pressed up against yours, and, like:  _a secret!!_ Something about the surface! Finally.

Chara doesn't go on to insist that you promise, like you half-expected they would, but. They hesitate. You hear their breath hitch and feel their fingers flex and shift along your shoulders. Then: "I...Ree. I hate humans. I hate them. I  _hate_ them." Their fingertips dig in, almost to the point of hurting. " _I hate them so much._ "

Oh.

...Huh.

It's weird, actually. That's not what you were expecting them to say, but. You're not totally surprised, either? And  _jeez_ if this doesn't explain a whole lot, even without all the other stuff Chara just told you. Why  _would_ they want to talk about the surface if it's a world overrun by people they can't stand? Now you feel like kind of a jerk for ever asking.

To be honest, you're more surprised that they're treating this like it's something they have to hide. Maybe because they're human, too? "Chara," you say, trying very, very hard not to sound dismissive, "that's...okay? A lot of people down here don't like humans. We spent so much time sticking close to Home because we were all scared of them, and...you know. Hating them, too. You're not alone."

"It's not the same," they hiss back. "I don't have the right to that. Besides, monsters are—you're good people. How many of you would be happier if all of humanity just up and vanished? Forever?  _That's_ what I mean."

You...have an idea what the answer to that is, but you're not sure you should say. Do they even  _want_ an answer? Do you...would Chara feel better if they talked to someone who felt the same way about humans? Like. If you could convince them it doesn't have to be a secret, maybe you could ask Mom and Dad to—

You go stock still. Oh. You get it now. "Not my parents," you answer them quietly.

Chara sighs against your chin. "Not them," they say, "exactly," and your heart sinks. They pull back a little, only to settle their forehead against your collarbone like they're ready to fall asleep. "Their...expectations for us make it patently clear we're not on the same page when it comes to humanity," they continue. "They can't know."

"I'm really sorry," you tell them, in all sincerity.

"It's not your fault."

"That doesn't mean there's nothing I can do about it," you say, then take a steeling breath. "Are you...are you sure you don't want me to try talking to—"

" _No._ " They pull back for real this time, shooting you a look that's wild-eyed but more scared than angry. It softens in the next moment anyway, as Chara averts their gaze and folds their arms up tight. "I don't...look. Your parents have been so,  _nice_ to me," they say, almost soft, fully earnest. "But I'm not you. I just live here. I don't want to find out what happens if they fail to understand why I can't be 'the future of humans and monsters' for them."

For a hot second you itch to argue that  _of course_ they would understand,  _of course_ your mom and dad would be willing to hash things out, because whether Chara is kin or not shouldn't make a jot of difference—but. But. Your mom isn't exactly shy about Chara's high marks or boasting about their "political acumen", as she calls it, and your dad...well. He's made his expectations for Chara's future plenty clear, to the entire Underground at that. Who are you to guarantee Chara anything?

So you keep quiet, and Chara does too for a while. "Don't worry about it," they end up saying, voice low.

"Fat chance," you shoot back. This gets a snort out of Chara, but it doesn't really change the pall hanging between you now. "I  _am_ serious, you know," you try again.

It takes Chara a few seconds to murmur an "I'm sure" in response. They've gone back to staring at their drawing and the place where it fell, one hand on their opposite forearm in a vise grip and their other hand risen to their mouth. It looks like they're chewing their nails. You frown and fuss with your paws and flounder for something to say until you start to look at the drawing too, and then—it  _clicks_.

"Chara," you start, slowly, "you said we might see more humans from your village. Right?"

Their teeth flash in a clench and they don't look at you. But they nod.

You scrounge up some courage before going on. "What would you do if that happened?"

Chara freezes, for a moment that traces a chill up your spine. Then they fold the fingernails they were chewing into the flat of their palm, hand pressing to their mouth.

"I don't know," they say. Their voice shakes. "I really don't know."

Right now, for what are probably different reasons, you don't know what to do either.

You sag onto your haunches. It's...not really fair. That Chara is so upset, of course that too, but it super extra stings that you're so  _useless_. Feeling like you're not cool or smart or capable enough in the general course of Being Asriel is nothing new by a long shot, but when it comes to Chara, it...you think it scares you? You're not sure. When you try to make out the shape of the feeling, all you see is your best (your only) friend drifting away as soon as they realize you can't do anything for them.

It makes your heart twist with dread. And maybe a little panic, because now you're stirred into sidling over to Chara. You say "Hey" softly too, so they're not spooked by your proximity, and you manage to sit almost shoulder-to-shoulder without Chara giving you the gimlet eye. Actually, their eyes just sort of...rove over you at first, carefully blank. Then they list into you with a little sigh, one side of their head propped on your shoulder, the whole of them an unexpected weight (not that you mind, not really).

"I'm—catastrophizing, I think," they say at length, with effort. Before you can ask, they clarify: "I'm getting ahead of myself. Anticipating the worst." Limply, the hand on their mouth drops into their lap. "Getting wound up over something that's not even a, a federal fucking issue yet."

 _I mean, yeah, you are??_ is what you bite back, because  _wow_ are you not supposed to be doing that. You swallow hard, tentatively lean your head against the top of Chara's and think for a good, long moment before saying, "You know...the more I think about it, there's probably been tons of villages that came before yours did, close to Ebott and everything. And, like! We've been stuck down here for hundreds of years without any humans. You're our first, Chara. That's gotta count for something."

Chara makes a small noise, just short of "nn". "Things are...they're a whole world different than they were almost a millennium ago," they say, "but. Haven isn't big. There's not much else around."

"Yeah!! And anyway, it sounds like you want everyone to know about your village, right? We can run things by my parents, see what they think. They can make preparations if they think we need 'em." Cautiously, you give Chara's scalp a nuzzle with the tip of your nose. Just as cautiously, they lean into it. "I...I don't know if that helps any, but. I feel like we're safe. You, too."

They heave a sigh against you. "I hope you're right," they murmur.

And that should be that, ideally. But you know better. Even if you've managed to reassure them a little... "Still," you say, voice subdued. "Golly. You really do hate your old village, don't you?"

This angle makes it impossible to see their face, but the minute way Chara tenses against you and the hush in their voice—the hot and wretched energy of it—say it all: "I wish it would _burn._ "

That,

 

  
That gives you pause. It...it  _resonates_ with you, of all things. Huh.

As Chara lifts their hand to wipe at their face again, you stew in the moment a little longer. You hold what they just said up against the light, like a gem from Waterfall that Mr. Gerson snuck into your purchase as a neat bonus. It's...maybe this shouldn't be your reaction, but their words have shifted something into focus for you. And you can't ignore that it's exactly the thing you were looking for: a purpose.

So you tell Chara, "Okay," like it's nothing. Then you stretch out the paw that's not trapped against their side and summon a flame.

...Since you didn't think ahead ( _which, you should have??? DUH_ ), you startle when Chara recoils from you, bad enough that you almost fling the fire gosh-knows-where instead of keeping it snug against your palm ( _could've been really bad!!! DOUBLE DUH_ ). "The  _FUCK_ , Asriel," Chara yelps.

"SORRY," you squawk, then, "i-it's not for you!" You hope _that_ much is obvious, but on the off chance it isn't, there it is you guess. "Ughh I didn't want this to be WEIRD, I just—I was gonna..." You wave a vague, flameless paw at Chara's map. "It's for that," you finish, a little lamely.

In cautious increments, Chara sits up from the backwards crabcrawl they'd half-started; honestly, this would be pretty funny if you weren't worried that you've just scared them into going quiet and frazzled for the next however many hours. But you guess not, given the weird squint that starts to creep onto Chara's face the longer they look at you. It's like they're smiling without their mouth getting in on the action too. "Seriously?" they end up saying.

"I know it's dumb!" you snap, even though you can't actually tell if Chara's tone was mocking. "I  _know_ it won't really do or solve anything, I just thought..." You grunt, scowling at the fire you're still nursing. It's puny, barely manifest, more flicker than flame. "At least it's  _something_ ," you mumble.

When you glance at Chara again, the almost-smile has dropped from their eyes. They've traded it for a look that's somewhere between a frown and...you guess you'd call it thoughtful? "I wouldn't say it's dumb," they tell you, with a slow exactness that you've learned is Chara thinking through  _how_ they sound more than anything, "that's not what I meant, but..." Their frown deepens, goes cockeyed. "I guess what I fail to understand is  _why_."

They're not being mean about this at all, and somehow it's making you feel even more sheepish. "I-I just figured it could be...mm." You look down, free paw fiddling with the tip of one ear. "Y'know. Nice, to pretend." This is...it's almost definitely not a normal thing to offer, is it? If Chara wasn't being literal about what they wanted after all, you've just made yourself look horrible  _and_ stupid. "Ugh. Never mind, I'm being—"

"Do it."

This snaps your gaze to Chara's. You get a full second of them staring back—fierce, utterly serious—before their throat works and their eyes drop away. Their face has gone a little extra red, too. "It's...still kind of you to offer," they say awkwardly, "even if it is just symbolic. So. I'm in." They breathe out a laugh, giving their neck a good scratch before looking back at you. A pocket of quiet stretches as their lips twitch with aborted words, until: "Thank you."

Then they smile, just a little. For a second your heart forgets what it's supposed to do and sort of—it flutters, then thumps hard once.

You sit up straighter with a couple hardy coughs. "Well!! Of course," you say, in the best Tough Kid Voice you can manage right now. "Just, y'know! Don't get mad at me later because I trashed your art and all, haha."

Chara giggles dryly as they retrieve their drawing. "I don't think you have to worry about me deciding that this garbage is precious in hindsight," they say, then proceed to tear off a long strip from one side of the already-pretty-garbage-looking sheet with a flourish. You both laugh.

The little flame you conjured is still chugging along when Chara scoots over to you. By all rights it shouldn't—you've been too distracted the past couple of minutes to nurture it properly—but hey, it saves you trouble. Speaking of... "Hey, uh. Maybe I should hold the paper, yeah?"

You're not sure if Chara gets what you're alluding to, but their lips purse in thought. "I trust you not to burn me," they end up saying, so—yeah, they do get it, and...they sound weirdly surprised at their own certainty. Honestly, you kind of are, too.

And  _boy_ if that doesn't make your stupid heart do That Thing again. Well. You can't go and let them down  _now_ , can you?

You nod, trying to squeeze your face into an approximation of determined. "Let go when I tell you to though, okay?" you amend. "I'll make sure it doesn't hit the floor." Maybe you still don't know how to talk magical fire into being harmless, but you  _can_ make inanimate objects float for about a minute if you concentrate hard enough. That's more time than the fire would need at that point, probably.

Chara nods back without protest, which is the best you can hope for. That settled, they hold up the drawing from one end while you lift the flame until it starts licking the edges of the other end. It doesn't catch right away, and in that space you think at the fire  _Just burn the paper, please please PLEASE just the paper_ , channeling your force of will into the tiny half-guttering flame like a shove to the back, even though you  _know_ it won't work. Which it doesn't, of course; the fire may be an extension of yourself in all technicality, but you have no idea how to talk to it in a way it can hear, at least not really.

All that nonsense and your own annoyance is rendered moot in a few seconds, anyway: the sheet finally catches. You pull your paw back while Chara fails to budge an inch.

The burning itself is...pretty slow, actually? The flames eating away at the paper are modest and working at a snail's pace that would be worrying for a normal fire, but they're doing their job. Safety aside, you kind of like this better anyway. The make-believe destruction of this place Chara hates so much gets to be something to savor instead of a big flash and a swift pile of ashes. And savor you do: the small flames and charred edges crawling over all the boxes that stand in for houses, chewing the gate's big circle into nothing and smoking out the clusters of gold (which you can tell are flowers, since they're pretty much the only thing Chara put any care into drawing) speckled everywhere except on the buildings and stark wobbly roads. It'll all be gone soon; you did this. It's making the fur on the back of your neck stand up and it's not unpleasant.

With a shudder, you check on Chara and narrowly stop yourself from jumping. They've gone back to leaning against your side, save a head plopped on your shoulder. You're almost mad that you didn't notice, but the feeling gets dropped as you watch them watching the fire, intent and bright-eyed. ( _You did this._ )

"Ree," they say, without looking at you, "you know what would make this even better?"

"If it were real?" You're half-joking, but more than that you're hoping you didn't miss a beat.

"Well. Basically that, but—" They pause, mouth scrunching. "I mean. If this were a special spell and it worked...remotely. If this drawing wasn't just a dumb effigy."

You get what they're driving at, sure enough. "I don't think we have any magic that works like  _that_ ," you say, with a soft laugh and a shoulder bump.

They laugh too and shrug, weakly. "Just as well."

It doesn't escape you that Chara sounds less than enthused. "It's a cool idea, though," you assure them, then add, "Nothing can stop us from pretending really hard either way."

They concede with a less feeble laugh. "It can't, no."

"Yeah!"

And it's true, of course. But as you watch Chara get re-absorbed in the fake death of their village—red eyes widening and tiny hot trails of light reflecting back through them, their free hand seeking out your free paw in a wholly voluntary petition to hold it—

—as you watch, there's a not-small part of you that wishes, in a very low, unabashed voice, this really  _was_ that kind of spell instead.


End file.
